The solitary one waits for grace,
For mercy divine,
For he of trouble thought must travel through the seaway,
Stir with his hands the frosty-cold sea and travel paths of exile.
Unhinged by the certainty of fate.

Thus spoke the wayfarer, midful of hardships,
of cruel battles & beloved kinsmen fallen:

"... I bewail my rares alone, the dawn of each day.
They, who eager for glory bind fast a sad thought in my breast;
Separated from homeland, far from noble kinsmen"

He who has experience,
Knows cruel sorrow,
As his companion,
No longer one with many,
One with few,
The path of an exile claims him,
His heart frozen,
No wealth on earth at all.

Now all joy has departed,
Without his lord's counsel,
Sorrow and sleep together,
Bind the wretched solitary one.

Bereft of friends, awakens he,
Dark waves before him,
Frost and snow,
Mingled with hail fall,
His wounded heart is heavier;
Painful for the beloved,
Sorrow is renewed.

Spirits of the seafarers bring not, familiarity there.
Care is renewed for the one who must,
Send a weary mind over the bound waves.
A mind in darkness, pondering life,
How they abandoned the hall,
The brave young!

Thus this earth declines,
Falls every day for he,
The riches of this land stand deserted,
Walls still stand,
Blown upon by winds,
Covered with frost,
Bereft of joy...
...for they all perished.

Proud beside the wall,
War destroyed many,
Over the high sea, a bird of carrion makes haste,
The grey-haired wolf shared in death,
The ancient work stood empty.

Learned we in former-days,
Of glory-blessed heroes,
The thegns of the Lord,
Their force did not fail,
In the war,
When banners clashed together.

Illustrious men upon the earth,
Bold folk-leaders on fields of reckoning,
Doughty Warriors, Battlep-Brave!
When shield and hand defended their crown.
When all man's land was wound in murder,
The enemy's deceit was rife in the kingdom.

On the dwelling-place of mighty men,
Homeland of heroes. They of true spirit!
Neither bread nor water for men,
Consumed they, blood and skin throughout the nation,
The flesh-homes of foreign-coming men.
Such was the peace-less token,

The violence of the wretched,
That the enemy, sword-grim and sad-minded,
Destroyed the sight of the eyes,
with the point of spears.

Then they strove against incursion,
Swiftly under shield,
Bristling with spears,
Enraged ash-bearers,
Towards the fight's flame!
One and all, together, for home!

Shattered by Fate! The castles rend asunder,
The work of giants moldereth away,
It's towers crumble,
Aquae Sulis, in ruin,
The mortar white with frost.

The mighty men who built it, they of giants renown,
Departed hence, undone by death, are held,
Fast in the earth's embrace.
While overhead for living men,
A hundred generations pass.

Long this red wall, now mossy gray, withstood,
While kingdom followed kingdom in the land,

Wide-wasting was the battle where they fell,
Plague-;aden days upon the city came;
Yet the wall Surronded all with it's bright bosom;
There stood the courts of stone.
Hence to reign hereafter, the Angle!

Then did they of proud spirit split the shield-wall,
Men of King Aethelstan, men of honour.
Battle shields were hewn with the remnants of hammers.
Befitting their noble descent,
That they should, defend their land,
In battle against each hostile people,
Horde and home!
Horde and home!

The enemy perished,
The field flowed with the blood of warriors,
Till that noble creation,
The Lords bright candle,
Sank to it's seat.

The West-Saxons hewed them... Fugitives all,
Grievously with swords sharp from the grinding,

Departhen then the North-men in nailed ships,
The dejected survivors of battle,
They who sought respite over deep water,
Leaving Dinges mere,
Ashamed in spirit.

Then he who thought wisely of,
Deeply contemplates this dark life,
Wise in mind, remembers he, the battles of old;
Time has departed,
Grown dark under cover of night,
As if it never were.

Powerful spears took earls away,
Weapons greedy for slaughter,
Storms now batter these stone cliffs,
A falling snowstorm binds the earth,
The tumult of winter;
Shade of night grows dark,
Sends from the north,
The rough hailstorm in hostility to men.

Everything is fraught with hardship in the kingdom of earth,
Here all is temporary,
Earth's foundations become vain!

Apart in counsel,
Good is he who preserves faith.
Nor ought a man to ever,
Make known the grief of his heart too quickly,
Well it is for the one, who seeks merry for himself,
To find solace, where security stands.

"My lord was covered in darkness,
I was wretched, I was desolate,
As th,e winter coming of waves
To find solace, where security stands!"

Still is the valley,
Surronded by a forest of oaks,
Respiring deeply,
With the breath of our ancestors,
A knot of roots,
Hold steadfast the earth,
Bonds that link a nation,
Foregoing generations,
Eternal, Unswayed!

Roots of heritage,
Pertain to the valley,
Roots of hope,
Growing strong,
Entwined in the land,
A valley thick with oaks.

Its villages silenced,
By the drift of clear water,
A bell tolls for many,
Their presence long gone,
A voice in the wind,
Telling secrets of the fallen,
Lessons without words,
A proud spirit remains,
In the heart of every Englishman!

If you find yourself,
On the tip of an enemy sword,
Pull them close to you,
Look into their eyes, and laugh!

Look to the future,
See they, children of the Engla,
Blood of the land!

For a drop of blood,
That falls to soil,
Means you will live,
In the land that you love,
Forever!

You will look back,
Be among ancestors,
The fathers of Albion.